Dead Wrong
by Rusty Fingers
Summary: After the events of Lost and Found, Grissom and Horatio struggle to maintain their relationship after a serious mistake on Horatio's part threatens to compromise it. WARNING: Slash Pairing
1. Chapter 1

Grissom checked his watch as he stepped into his office. It was the end of a long shift. He wanted to try Horatio again and, seeing the time, he hoped he might catch Horatio before he went to work. It rung three times before the deep voice told Grissom it was in fact Horatio he had reached but that he needed to leave a message. Closing his phone and letting his hand drop to his side, Grissom raised his eyes to the ceiling before closing them tightly and moving his head in a circle, trying to unkink tight muscles.

He had to quickly step aside as a knock came on his door before it opened. He found himself facing Sara, her face pre-arranged to smile. He knew that was fake however and he frowned at her.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" She asked.

Grissom tilted his head and raised his eyebrow, "of course."

He seemed distracted but then again, that was exactly what she had come to talk to him about. Grissom sat behind his desk and pulled his chair close to it so he could rest his elbows on it's surface. He laced his fingers and looked at Sara over them. She sat across from him, feeling uncomfortable under that gaze. His eyes on her always sent a shiver down her spine nowadays but not when he had that look in them: Focused and yet far away.

She swallowed before starting. "I...just wanted to see how you were doing." She rallied and turned his inscrutable look back on him.

This threw Grissom somewhat and his face softened, "uh...yeah, I'm fine Sara." He said dismissively.

"Really," she raised an eyebrow at him. Grissom didn't respond and a silence hung in the air before she continued. "You just...seem preoccupied lately." Trying to make the words sound concerned yet casual was killing her. She thought their relationship was deepening, that they were moving forwards but in the weeks following the Renfrew case it had all come to a standstill.

Pursing his lips and looking at his desk, Grissom let out a sigh. "Sara, I-"

Yet another knock came on his door and both CSI's looked up. Sandy from the mail room peeked her head in and beamed the bright smile of someone just coming on shift. "Delivery," she said perkily. She practically floated over to Grissom's desk and placed a square parcel wrapped in brown paper on it. It was about 10 inches square and drew both Grissom and Sara's attention.

"Thank you Sandy," Grissom said distractedly as he picked up the box carefully, noting it's 'fragile' label.

Sara watched Sandy exit the room before returning her eyes to Grissom. Sadly, she noticed his focus was taken up with the box.

She stood, pushing the chair back. Grissom looked up at her as though being awakened from an inappropriate day dream. At least he looked guilty, she thought.

"We can talk about this next shift, it's been a long one, hey?" She looked away from him quickly. She wasn't crying but she certainly didn't feel strong.

"Sara-" Grissom called after her.

"Next shift, okay?" She gave him that fake smile then disappeared through the door, closing it behind her.

Grissom sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses to do so. He was feeling guilty. Sara felt something was happening between them and maybe he had too. But that was before. That was before...

He replaced his glasses and frowned at the package. Searching out the postmark, he found 'Florida' under the wavy post office stamp. Slowly, his mouth twisted into a grin that reached his eyes. Taking his pocket knife out, he carefully cut the paper wrapping off to expose a clear plastic container with a clear, red plastic lid. The spider inside took his breath away and his eyes widened in wonder as he delicately turned the container about in his hands.

She was a Golden Silk Orb-Weaver, striped in a stunning hue of yellow and black with five glorious inches of leg span. When he was done, initially at least, marvelling at her Grissom searched through the paper but found no card, no note. This made him sit back and frown, a sinking feeling in his chest.

It had been weeks since he had heard from Horatio, not since a brief phone call after his plane had touched down in Miami after the Renfrew case. Trying to be casual about it, Grissom had waited a week before phoning but left no message when he got Horatio's answering machine. Another week and the same thing happened. He had meant to leave a message this last time but suddenly, listening to Horatio's voice recording, didn't know quite what to say. He was beginning to wonder if he had dreamed the whole affair because it was only in his dreams he had seen Horatio recently. And the dreams came often, vivid and excruciating to rouse from in the mornings.

He was looking forlornly at the spider on his desk when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn't check the call display before he flipped it open. "Grissom." The distraction in his voice was palpable.

It gave Horatio pause before saying, "Gil."

Grissom was glad he had been sitting when he felt his own name caress his ear, spoken with that tone that set him thrashing in his sleep. It felt as though his entire abdomen had turned to icy liquid.

Some time passing after he first spoke, Horatio smiled and decided to continue. "Did you receive a package today?" Still garnering no response, he carried on. "I hope she got to you safely. She'll need to eat soon, of course-"

"I've got some crickets here for my 'roaches," was all Grissom managed. He swallowed. He wanted to tell Horatio how it made him feel to hear the other man's voice but found he couldn't.

"Have I caught you at a bad time?" Horatio asked when the silence persisted. He was used to being the quieter one.

"No," Grissom said, "I've just...been trying to...to reach you the last little while and I wasn't sure...what you were...if you were..." Grissom screwed up his face in frustration at his inability to form a coherent sentence. Horatio could do this to him and he disliked it, especially now when it left him feeling vulnerable after so much time apart and so little contact.

Horatio exhaled. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "That's my fault and I...I meant to call you and I meant to," he breathed a small laugh at his own discomfort, "meant to call you back but every time I thought about it, it was so late where you are."

Grissom swallowed and held the phone closer. He sensed that Horatio was upset. He also heard in his voice the tenderness that, moments ago, he had been wondering if he had dreamed.

"It's Kyle." Came the rough voice after a moment.

"Is he okay?" Grissom asked quickly, his frown deepening to outright concern.

"Yeah, he's-" Horatio stopped short as Grissom caught uncharacteristic emotion in his tone, like his voice had been about to crack with grief.

Horatio moved the receiver away from his mouth as he cleared his throat in an attempt to quell his distress. After neglecting to call Grissom for two and a half weeks, he certainly hadn't meant to offload all of his problems on him on their first call.

Both men were thinking the same thing in the silence that hung between them.

'I miss you'

But neither said it. Eventually Horatio spoke, his tone composed again.

"Let me um, let me talk about that with you later, okay?"

Grissom nodded before remembering that this was a phone and responding, "okay."

"Where did you get her?" He asked, because he truly was curious and because he desperately wanted to move to steadier ground in their conversation.

"She was evidence in a murder investigation." Horatio said with some relief.

"A murder investigation?" Grissom peered into the container again.

"Yeah, this guy who runs an," Horatio shook his head, not quite sure what to call it, "exotic animal menagerie for photo shoots and movies had her. She was in this pathetically small container."

"So you rescued her?" Grissom's grin returned as the spider moved across the container on gentle footsteps.

Horatio smiled on the other end. "I figured if anyone would know how to treat a lady of her calibre, it would be you Doctor Grissom. You are, after all, 'The Bug Guy.'" Horatio's tone turned serious. "She needs a lot of space to build her web."

"I'm the bug guy, I know that," Grissom quipped. "I've got a 40 gallon terrarium somewhere I can dig out for her."

The silence that followed this was more comfortable, both men thinking of each other.

"Horatio?" Grissom enjoyed his name on many levels.

"Mmm?"

"Thank you."

"I'm...I'm not in the habit of sending gifts to my lovers after I've neglected them." It was a promise of sorts.

"Good," Grissom replied. "What's going on with Kyle?"

The story of Julia's dramatic return and the events surrounding it were taken in and carefully thought over by Grissom. When the story was finished, he knew exactly what it was that was bothering Horatio. "I'm sorry he didn't choose to live with you but...he's 16 Horatio. You know you have a long time to get to know him."

"That's true," Horatio replied. He rarely thought in terms of 'tomorrow' and appreciated this about Grissom. Their minds worked differently.

"Is there anything on your mind?" Horatio said after a moment.

Grissom shook his head to himself, thinking of just how many things there were that he'd like to speak with Horatio about. Smiling, he remembered how matter of fact Horatio was, how he would cut to the chase and shrug off unnecessary details. "I feel I have so much to talk to you about, I don't know where to begin."

Horatio leaned back in the high backed office chair in front of his desk, "why don't you start with what's bothering you and move on to the good stuff from there. That way...that way we can end the conversation on a good note."

Grissom chuckled. "You've got an answer for everything, don't you?"

"For you? For you...I would like to." Horatio rumbled softly.

Grissom smiled at that, then let it fade as he thought about the moments before their phone call.

"You remember Sara?" He began.

The business with Kyle relatively settled, their phone calls become more common place, Horatio making just as much of an effort to initiate them as Grissom did. Topics ranged from family and childhood to cases, new forensic techniques and journal articles one or the other had found interesting. More often than not, they filled the time that stretched in the line between them with talk of little things. A lot of talk, and sometimes playful arguments, were had with regard to baseball and basketball. Scores, trades, stats and averages. It was something they connected over that had nothing to do with work.

The words 'I love you' had not been spoken yet but they seemed just around the corner.

As Grissom had thought it would, his conversation with Sara got put off by both of them, sometimes for legitimate reasons, sometimes not. Uncharacteristically he decided, finally, to make the first move. When he invited her to coffee mid-shift, he tried to make it as clear as possible that this was just to talk. She readily accepted, her heart starting to race. She knew that with Gil Grissom, that tone and look could prelude something good just as easily as it could mean something bad.

Grissom sat stirring his coffee, looking into the creamy swirls and trying to decide how he was going to do this. In conversing with Horatio over the last few months, he had the opportunity to mull over various options and scenarios. At first, Horatio had seemed somewhat quiet with regards to Sara, perhaps sensing in her legitimate competition. But as they talked about it more it became clear that Grissom had put his foot into it a little and was looking for as clean a way as possible to extract it.

Horatio had told him to consider what he did want from Sara and be direct. He seemed to be able to do that where the Lieutenant was concerned. Grissom looked up from his coffee and had the sudden realization that maybe he had been forthright with Horatio because his subconscious knew how vital it was. Maybe he knew on some level that not taking a chance on Horatio that night would impact the rest of his life and not for the better.

Grissom cleared his throat, trying to clear his mind. Sara looked at him steadily. Smiling genuinely at her, he realized how much better she had been doing lately. After almost loosing everything when she was caught driving with just shy of an illegal limit of alcohol in her system, she had bounced back. Grissom had done his best to offer her whatever support she needed and they had shared moments and information that were deeply intimate. But he knew now that what he wanted from her was her friendship more than anything. Now, he just needed to tell her that.

"Sara, I wanted to let you know how much of a change I've noticed in you. Your emotions are more level and your work has improved significantly over the past months."

She smiled at him, even though this wasn't quite where she'd hoped this conversation would go, a compliment from Grissom about work was still a compliment.

"And let me say that your work was pretty fine before that." Added Grissom.

"I know what you're talking about Grissom and...I appreciate it, I do." She ended softly.

Grissom worked his jaw muscles and inhaled deeply. "What I wanted to tell you...before I told anyone else was that there has been a development in my life." The words weren't perfect but he charged on, ripping off the bandage.

Sara looked at him with undisguised curiosity.

"You let me in to a part of you life that you have never shared with anyone before and I have felt closer to you in the last few months than ever before." Grissom said earnestly.

"I've felt closer to you too," she said, her tone still quiet.

"So I wanted to tell you..." Grissom was shaking. He was nervous on many levels, so many he couldn't counter them all with rational thinking.

Sara put her hand on his arm. "Is everything okay?"

Letting out a nervous chuckle, he said, "Yeah, everything is great."

Sara felt the tremors through his jacket and looked at him directly. "Grissom, tell me."

"I've been seeing someone." It tumbled out of him.

Sara raised her eyebrows in shock but did not remove her hand. "After the Renfrew case, right?" she said after a moment.

Grissom looked at her and she saw that the grey of his eyes was the lightest she had ever seen it. She read in his face his desire to not harm her even though they both knew what those words would do to her. Feeling him shake, seeing the uncertainty in his face, Sara knew most of it was showing because he cared about her.

"You don't...you don't owe me anything Grissom." She said, frowning in an effort to quell the sadness that was washing over her.

"That's not true. If I want your friendship, it must be earned and I have been neglecting that, Sara. I've been neglecting you." He reached a hand up to her face and brushed a single tear away with his thumb.

Sara hiccuped and Grissom retrieved a handkerchief from his jacket, offering it to her. She smiled her thanks and dried her eyes.

"I'm not done." Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried desperately to compose himself for the delivery of the rest.

Sara looked at him, unsure what else there could be.

"The person I've been seeing...it's Horatio Caine."

Sara went from sad to stunned in a second, eyes wide in disbelief. "Th...the head of the Miami crime lab?" Memories of the mostly silent Lieutenant Caine came back to her. They hadn't really had the chance to talk, both being so wrapped up in the case.

Realization dawned on her. "That's why you took time off after the Renfew case. I thought..." she raised an eyebrow to herself, "I thought you were burnt out."

"Well, I was," Grissom admitted. "That just wasn't the whole reason."

Silence descended upon their small table as both sipped their coffee.

Casting an affectionate look at Grissom tinted just a little with upset, she said, "I've never seen you so happy." Grissom looked at her over his glasses. "The last few months, you look five years younger."

Grissom smiled briefly. "I've, uh, been taking boxing lessons at the gym."

This caused Sara to grin. "Really? Why?" She wasn't a fan of the violent sport but knew that Grissom had a certain grim fascination with it.

"To get into shape, I'm not sparring, just getting some cardio." Grissom's jitters were subsiding. This was it, this was what he wanted from her, to share things and keep their undeniably strong bond alive.

Sara raised an eyebrow at him. "You're getting into shape for him, for Horatio." Her smile faded as she said his name and silence returned. She finished her coffee, set the mug down and quickly turned to grab her jacket off the back of the chair. "Thanks for Coffee Griss, let's get back, shall we?"

Somewhat stunned by her speed, Grissom drained his mug and pushed back his chair. Before they were about to part ways to go to different sides of the Denali, Sara turned and stopped Grissom with her hand on his. She levelled her gaze at him for a minute.

"If I don't bounce back right away from this, I don't want you to worry. I just...need some time."

Grissom was hit with such a deep sense of caring for her as she spoke that he felt the sting of tears himself. "Don't stop talking to me." He managed to get out.

Sara wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek softly. She started to cry again, knowing this was as close to him as she would likely ever get. When she could trust her voice, she whispered, "I'm happy for you."

Grissom put his arms around her and squeezed tightly, a hint of moisture in the laugh lines around his tightly shut eyes. They stood hugging for some time in the circle of light cast by a street lamp, saying nothing.

Upon return to his office, Grissom absent-mindedly opened his e-mail as he prepared to leave. When he glanced at it, coat slung over his arm, he noticed an interesting subject line and set his coat on the desk before sitting down to read it. There was going to be a series of entomology conferences held in Baltimore, Chicago, Miami, Phoenix, Salt Lake City and San Francisco. As he read on, Grissom became excited both at the names and topics involved but also at the prospect of having two good reasons to visit Miami. He grinned.

Grissom had been wondering when he might next be able to see Horatio but their discussions on the matter hadn't born any fruit. Yet.

Flipping open his phone, he pressed the button that automatically dialled Horatio's cell and pressed the phone to his ear. When he got the voice-mail, he hung up and scrolled through his list of contacts until the Miami Crime Lab's number came up and hit send.

"Miami Dade police department, how can I help you?"

"Hi, is Lieutenant Caine available?" Grissom asked, pulling up the conference dates. There was a longer than normal pause from the other end of the line. "Hello?"

"I'm sorry sir," the woman's voice seemed troubled and reluctant, "may I ask who I'm speaking with?"

"This is Gil Grissom from the Las Vegas crime lab." He answered automatically, figuring Horatio must be out on a case and that she needed to take a message.

"Mr. Grissom I'm sorry but we just received word that Lieutenant Caine was shot," the woman managed haltingly.

Grissom sat back from the laptop screen. He stopped breathing for a solid minute. "What's his condition?" He asked, keeping his voice as neutral as he could manage.

He could tell she was crying as she said, "he...he died, he's dead."

Some instinctual part of Grissom's brain must have told the woman he was sorry to hear and hung up the phone, not that he could remember later. All he could think of was 'he's dead' and how he was supposed to make this simple statement line up with his vision of Horatio, hands on hips and feet planted wide, smiling in the sunshine. This series of thoughts ran through his mind again and again, his body numb.

Catherine, walking by, saw him through the window and stopped short. She knew Grissom but she didn't know that look. "Gil?" She asked as she opened his door and looked at him.

He took several moments to notice her and when he did he just stared at her with that same vacant look.

Catherine moved quickly into the room and placed her hands on Grissom's shoulders so she could look at his face better. "Gil, what's wrong?"

Grissom opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, so he closed it again. He just looked at her and Catherine began to feel uneasy. She had never seen her friend and supervisor like this before. She pulled up a chair and sat opposite of him before holding the back of her hand to his forehead. Pushing up his sleeve, she felt for his pulse and looked at her watch.

"He's dead Catherine." Grissom whispered.

She looked up from her watch. "Who Gil?" She asked softly, patiently. Her mind ran through the list of names: Nick, Warrick, Jim, Greg, Dave, Doc Robbins. She had seen them all today.

"Horatio." The name came out in a pained whisper as Grissom put his head in his hands.

Catherine looked down at him in confusion. "Horatio...Caine? From Miami?"

It was the only Horatio that, to her knowledge, both of them knew. As Catherine figured this out she put a hand on Grissom's back and rubbed it. "He was a good criminalist, I'm really sorry to hear that." She was. She had liked Horatio a lot. He was passionate but controlled, two very appealing things in a man.

As she rubbed Grissom's back and received no response, Catherine began to wonder why he was so upset. They barely knew the man. "Grissom, are you okay?"

He hauled himself to his feet abruptly, "I've gotta go to Florida." Red eyed and shaky he looked down at Catherine. "Can you take care of the lab for a few days?"

"Gil-" Catherine was thoroughly perplexed. "What's going on?"

Grissom shook his head and looked away from her. "I can't, I can't, I can't."

Standing, Catherine caught him in a hug. "Okay, okay. Just breathe Gil."

"I need to go Catherine," he whispered into her shoulder.

"Okay, I'll take care of everything here." She didn't know what else to say. He was obviously in shock. She stroked the nape of his neck at his hairline, trying to calm him down.

He pushed away from her after a few minutes and tried to give her a level look. "I'll explain later. I just need to get to the airport."

All Catherine said was, "I'm driving you," and Grissom didn't argue. She waited with him at the gate and pressed a carry on with his toiletries and the change of clothes from his locker in it into his hands. Then she hugged him as his flight was announced.

"Call me," she whispered.

"I will."

Horatio stood up on the dock beside the now merely smoking wreckage. He smiled in the Miami sunlight that was just starting to loose it's intensity in the early evening. They hadn't found Ron Saris' Body but they had given him a run for his money if he had in fact managed to escape. No home, no money and every pair of police eyes in Miami looking for him.

Most importantly, Saris and Kyle would no longer share a roof and that was worth all the trauma of this very long day. He fingered the bruise left on his chest by the shot and thought of Grissom.

His phone rang and suddenly Stetler was in his ear, barking that Horatio needed to get back to the office immediately and tie up the loose ends on this case. Sighing as he climbed into the Hummer, Horatio wished he had checked the number before answering. He headed towards the lab anyway, promising himself that his reward would be a phone call to Grissom later, at home.

It was this reward that Horatio was thinking of as he stood in the lobby of CSI, speaking with Calleigh about some minor case details. She was the last person he needed to speak with before he could go. Still listening to Calleigh, he glanced up out of habit when the elevator doors opened and thought the stress must be getting to him.

Grissom stood in the elevator, hands in his pockets. He looked up a second after the doors opened and met Horatio's eyes.

Sufficiently certain that he wasn't hallucinating, Horatio broke out into a smile at Grissom and, saying 'excuse me' to Calleigh, took a step towards the elevator. He felt suddenly light as air, like a prayer had somehow been answered. Calleigh looked from Horatio to see who it was he was so clearly excited to see. She saw a very haggard looking Gil Grissom whom she knew to be the supervisor of the Las Vegas crime lab. She had attended a lecture of his at a forensics conference years ago.

Grissom's breathing became pained and halting and, his eyes filling with tears, he slammed a fist onto the button for the first floor. He looked away from Horatio as the doors shut.

The smile fell from Horatio's face upon seeing Grissom's look but he couldn't reach the elevator before the doors closed. His mind connected the dots in a split second and he ran for the stairs. Taking them two at a time, in a fashion that was still second nature from running up and down the stairs of tenement buildings in New York, he reached the ground floor as Grissom walked out of the front doors and collapsed on to a bench.

Grissom put his head in his hands and tried to steady himself. He felt like the victim of the cruellest joke. He had been wondering what he would do when he reached the lab, how he would react, what he would say. Running into Horatio just hadn't even entered his mind.

Horatio kneeled in front of Grissom and waited for the other man to look up. His eyes raced over Grissom's body, the hunched, destroyed look of it.

"Gil," he whispered urgently, taking Grissom's hand. Grissom gripped it fiercely but did not speak immediately.

When he did, his voice was hoarse and quiet. "They said you'd been shot. They said you were dead, Horatio."

Horatio dropped his head and closed his eyes. "Gil, I'm sorry...I...I didn't think you'd phone the lab. I didn't think you'd have to hear about this until after it was all finished."

Grissom slowly raised his head and looked at Horatio. His eyes were cold and dark as they narrowed at him. "You planned this?" He whispered in disbelief, barely audible.

"I needed to," his eyes looked pleadingly at Grissom, "There was no time-"

"No time to tell me?" Grissom said threateningly and as he said it, Horatio knew the magnitude of his mistake. Grissom stood and brushed past him.

"Let me make it real easy for you, Horatio." Grissom ripped open the door of his rental car, then looked over it, back at Horatio. "I'll give you all the time in the world to do whatever the hell it is you need to do." He sat in the drivers seat and slammed the door. A second later, his blue rental was just a spec in the distance.

Horatio stood and looked after the car until it disappeared, a stricken look on his face. His stomach felt like lead and he stood, watching the space where Grissom had been.

Calleigh watched Horatio slowly walk from the elevator. Taking careful, deliberate steps, he entered his office and sat in the chair behind his desk, turning away from the glass that looked out into the rest of the lab. She scribbled a last signature on a lab report and walked towards the office.

"Hey handsome," she said she poked her head inside, giving Horatio that southern bell smile. "Everything okay?"

Horatio looked over at her and she saw in him a look that took her back years, to the days and weeks following Speed's death. He had worn that same look, mostly when no one was watching, in that time. It spoke of a loss so deep and profound it would scar.

"Um," he began, looking away from her a moment, "I've just made...a very big mistake."

Calleigh turned and closed the door behind her before taking a seat in front of Horatio's desk and moving it closer to him. She knew that getting the full truth out of Horatio, if and when possible, required finesse. Normally she didn't pry, he was a very private man and, thinking of their fathers, she completely understood why. But she had coaxed it out of him after Speedle died and she thought she at least ought to try now.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on with Gil Grissom?" She thought it must have something to do with the Renfrew case. As far she knew, that was the only contact the two men had had. When he came back from Nevada, there was a change in him that only Calleigh seemed to notice even if she couldn't quite discern why.

Horatio didn't answer her right away and she was afraid he was going to stonewall her. He smiled a smile that had nothing to do with being pleased. Calleigh recognised it as his 'uncomfortable' smile which she did not often see. There was not a great deal on God's green earth that she knew of that could make Horatio Caine uncomfortable.

Still not looking at her as he spoke, knowing he desperately needed someone's advice and understanding that there was no one better suited than Calleigh, he spoke. "When I went to Vegas, Calleigh," he paused, formulating his sentence, "something happened between Grissom and I." He looked over at her briefly.

Her expression had not changed from friendly concern and he knew she wasn't comprehending the full meaning of his words.

"That makes sense," she said, "working on an emotionally charged case like the Renfew's often brings officers closer."

Horatio cleared his throat. "It certainly can Calleigh." He looked her in the eye. "In fact...I was beginning to think I'd never felt so close to anyone before."

Calleigh frowned as Horatio continued, slightly confused.

"We've spoken at least twice a week for the past four months and I..." He inhaled shakily. Forcing out these last words was excruciatingly difficult for him, she could tell. "...am falling...in love with him." Horatio gritted his teeth and put his face in his hand, elbow on the arm rest of his high backed office chair. He admitted to himself that he was afraid of Calleigh's expression and did not want to see it. His confidence in her ability to look past anything, of her place among the most caring people in his life was waning with his confidence in himself. Because as he spoke those words to her, he realized that what he had done could cost him his relationship with Grissom.

Calleigh sat stunned and didn't speak for a moment. When she recovered enough to see that Horatio was deeply upset, she put a hand on his forearm. "Horatio..." She waited for him to regain some semblance of composure and look at her. After a while, she gently spun his chair around so her was facing her and put her arms around his shoulders. He wasn't crying, she noted, but he was uncannily still and quiet. "Honey, that's fantastic. Why are you so upset?"

In his silence she drew upon all of her memories of Gil Grissom from the conference. He presented a well rounded, modified theory on the use of insect activity as an indicator of time of death. She remembered thinking that he was handsome in the way that intellectual, slightly older men could be. Expressing excitement for his topic without being so consumed as to be overbearing, Grissom spoke well and gave a good lecture. She couldn't quite see, with her limited knowledge of the man, what it was that Horatio would see in him. However, friends of hers had gushed about new boyfriends in ways Calleigh couldn't understand before she'd had the chance to really know them. She wanted to get to know Grissom now.

Horatio relaxed into Calleigh's embrace, staying there a few moments before withdrawing himself slightly to look at her. She left a hand on his knee and stared intently at him, offering all her strength up to him if need be.

"He phoned the lab this morning." Horatio whispered coarsely.

Calleigh's brow furrowed as she tried to discern the importance of this before it dawned on her. "Oh my God, they told him you were dead."

Her eyes widened on him as Horatio let his head fall again, shoulders hunched. "I didn't tell him about the plan...I was so concerned with Saris and there...there just didn't seem to be time..."

Calleigh rubbed his knee.

"He won't answer his phone, Calleigh, I..." He wanted so badly to go back and just make one simple phone call. The look on Grissom's face before he had driven off was tearing him up inside.

She gave him a moment before speaking in as confident a tone as she could manage. "Horatio, you said you were falling in love with him, right?"

He nodded without looking up. She lifted his face with both her hands cupping his jaw, their blue eyes meeting. "Why are you sitting in this office? Go out and find him or you'll never forgive yourself." She told him sternly.

"His phone-" He began.

"The airport. Start there." She interrupted.

Like a match sparking fuel, she found the part of his brain adept at problem solving and kick-started it. She saw his eyes loose focus as he thought.

"Go. Now. Call MIA while you drive." They both stood.

He strode towards the door, stopping just long enough to say "Thank you Calleigh," before he jogged to the elevator.

Calleigh looked out into the lab only to find several sets of eyes on her. She cocked an eyebrow, crossed her arms and stared them all down until they ducked back into their respective labs. Then she let her mind drift to thoughts of Horatio, hoping he found his boy. She was a sucker for a love story, after all.

A call to Miami International Airport yielded no sign of Grissom, he wasn't booked on any out going flights. Yet.

Horatio stayed on the main road he was on as he thought about where Grissom would go. He didn't have any family or friends in the area, he would have mentioned that. He liked to go on long walks around the city, Horatio knew, but that didn't help at all. He hated the Marlins, believing they sullied the good name of baseball with too much violence on the field. There were no noteworthy roller-coasters nearby, something Grissom considered to be a major shortcoming of Miami's.

Horatio rubbed his face as he watched someone merge in front of him. Then it hit him. He opened his phone, still in his hand from calling the airport, and dialled Calleigh.

"Calleigh, are you near a computer?"


	2. Chapter 2

Horatio leaned against Grissom's blue rental, arms crossed, sunglasses on, staring out at the ocean. The car was parked at Butterfly World in Pompano Beach, one of three bug-related exhibits in the Miami area that Calleigh could find and the last one Horatio had tried. Relieved when he saw the car parked outside, he had gone in search of Grissom but found him nowhere within. After asking a staff member if they had seen anyone matching his description, they told him the 'bug guy' was with the head entomologist in back, playing with the spiders.

The wind ruffled Horatio's hair as the sun threatened to set. He didn't have to look over his shoulder, he could feel Grissom's eyes on his back.

Grissom stood with his fists balled in his sport coat, focused on the figure leaning against his car. Horatio was dressed in black slacks and black shirt with various shades of charcoal striping. Looking at the ground, Grissom felt impatient with himself, impatient with his emotions. He thought he had calmed down but looking at Horatio standing there, as breath taking as he was in Grissom's dreams, he felt thrown again.

"Get off the car." His voice was quiet.

Horatio turned, took off his sunglasses and placed his elbows on the hood of the car. His gaze was direct and levelled squarely at Grissom. It was more direct eye contact than the Lieutenant usually gave anyone but he was desperate. "I can't do that. Not before you promise me you'll be here in the morning." Maintaining eye contact with Grissom under the scathing look he directed at Horatio was difficult.

"You'll forgive me if I don't feel the need to appraise you of my intentions. Get off the car." Anger seeped into this sentence.

"If I do, I can't be certain I'll be able to find you again, so...Gil, I can't." Horatio intoned in his rough voice.

Grissom turned sideways from him and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. "What, calling in the GPS locator on my phone a second time'll be too much for you?" He snapped. Grissom's chest began to move noticeably as he drew in angry, upset breaths. "I dreamed about you Horatio. Every night since our...since that first night." There were no tears in his eyes but Horatio looked away from him. "I dreamed about you." Grissom shook his head and looked aside.

Both men felt the strange pain of unrequited love in their breasts. Horatio had to steady himself before he could continue, saying the only thing that came to mind.

"There's only three bug places in town. This is the best one but I checked them all...and after this, Miami has no good roller-coasters...you see my point." Horatio stumbled over his words, knowing his eyes were turning desperate. He didn't turn away.

Grissom raised an eyebrow at him. "You didn't look up my GPS."

"That might've made more sense...would have been quicker." He admitted and risked a smile.

"You're a piece of work." Grissom's face softened somewhat. It made him look tired.

Horatio exhaled a laugh. "That's what my desk Sargent back in New York used to say."

Slowly taking his elbows from the roof of the car, Horatio walked around it to stand facing Grissom, keeping a couple of feet between them. He fingered his sunglasses nervously, bowed his head and looked up at Grissom.

"Just promise me you'll still be here tomorrow."

"Recommendations for a hotel?" Grissom said after a minute.

Horatio thought. "Miami Beach on Collins and 16th," he offered.

Grissom gave a small nod. "Now," he stepped forward, an inch away from Horatio, "Move." The words weren't vicious. The proximity let them both see how tired the other was. As they both caught hints of the others scent, they turned their heads to opposite sides. Horatio stepped aside and, as Grissom unlocked the door with the remote, he opened it for him. They didn't catch each others eyes again as Grissom sat and buckled himself and Horatio gently but firmly shut the door.

Feeling he'd never been so exhausted in his life, Grissom looked into his rear view and saw Horatio looking after him, hands on his hips. Grissom sighed deeply and drove on.

Leaning against the window frame of his hotel room, Grissom felt he really should turn around and hit the bed. Preferably like a stone. But he was watching the sun reflect off of the ocean in a million red and gold flecks. It was beautiful. His mind kept coming back to this fact, that it was beautiful, and he knew his brain had to be short circuiting.

His phone suddenly buzzed angrily on the night stand and Grissom turned to pick it up. Checking the display before he opened it he said, "Catherine."

"Gil, hey, I..."

"I'm sorry I haven't phoned yet it's-"

"You don't need to apologize to me, Gil." She didn't continue immediately. "I talked to Sara."

Grissom looked at the coral coloured carpet and blinked. He knew what she meant.

"I'm so sorry," Catherine said softly.

Grissom shook his head, suddenly angry at Horatio again. "Catherine, it's been-"

"I'll take care of the lab for as long as you need, okay? Take your time." Her concern made Grissom smile, if only a little bit.

"He's alive Catherine." Grissom said simply.

"What? What do you mean?"

Grissom sighed and shook his head again. "You're a woman."

"Last I checked," She quipped.

"He faked his death."

"He what? Why?" Any concern that had been in Catherine's voice was now replaced with incredulity.

"I don't know," Grissom sat down heavily on the bed. "But he basically _forgot_ to tell me about this plan of his."

There was a pregnant pause from the other side of the line. "Uh, wow. I have no idea what to say to that."

"Well, I blew up at him." Grissom felt better talking to Catherine. She was his human connection and sometimes, he hated to admit it, he just needed her perspective on why they did what they did.

"That's fair."

He smiled, loving her for that. "He tracked me down-"

"GPS?"

"No, he looked at all the bug museums in town."

"Huh. Go about it the hard way, hey?"

"That's what I thought." Grissom mused, now staring at the stuccoed ceiling. "But I'm just wondering, you know, what have I gotten myself into? What am I doing with a guy who would do something like this?"

"What was he like before this little incident?" Catherine had calmed down and had switched to girl talk mode without even noticing.

"We only talked...on the phone but he's...charming...a little quiet sometimes. He's a basketball fan."

"Is he funny?"

Grissom furrowed his brow and thought about it. "Well, I wouldn't say he's funny in a...not in a usual way." 

Catherine sounded impatient, "does he make you smile, does he make you laugh?"

"Oh, yeah, he does. And he's smart-"

"How's the sex?" She cut him off, sensing he was in a rambling mood.

"How is that important?" Grissom asked, confused and taken aback.

"Darlin', it's very important."

He didn't answer right away.

"You two have...haven't you?"

Clearing his throat, Grissom said "yeah..." He said it so quietly Catherine almost missed it. His mind went back to that night and all he could see was Horatio's blue eyes. He lost his voice thinking about it, his heart aching with longing for Horatio, for them in that moment.

"It was amazing," he whispered finally.

Catherin sighed. "You want my advice, right?"

"Please," he said forlornly.

"He sounds like a prize." She said simply.

"But what about faking his death and not telling me about it?"

"I'll admit, I've never heard of a guy screwing up quite that creatively before but, um, even the ones that get under our skin in the worst ways...they make mistakes Grissom."

He thought about this for a long while.

"Did he argue with you about it?" She added as an afterthought.

"About what, the death faking?"

"About whether he was in the wrong."

"Oh, no, he was...he was sorry." He could see now where she was leading him, as though taking a child by the hand.

"If it were me, I'd give him another chance." She said simply. "I've had my fair share of jerks and he just...doesn't fit the bill."

"Thanks Catherine."

"Are you gonna be okay?"

Grissom groaned, "yeah, you've...given me some clarity on the matter."

"Good. Take the week."

"Thank you, again, I-"

"Don't thank me yet. I want all the details when you get back. You owe me dinner."

"Yes dear."

He hung up and laid down on top of the covers. He found the humidity to be more noticeable than he'd thought he would. Drifting off to sleep, his mind mulled over the details of his conversation with Catherine until it wound itself into his dream.

Listening to what his body was asking for, Grissom slept in. After laying in bed trying to sort fact from dream, he took a long, cool shower. As he dressed he thought fondly of Catherine, thanking her for the small blessings of a toothbrush and deodorant. Walking from his hotel, he quickly found a restaurant on the beach with a good view of the ocean and had a light breakfast. Travel and stress upset his stomach, so he didn't order much, mostly a sampling of fruit he could never manage to find as fresh in Nevada. His feet took him around the area where he found a flower shop and had a bouquet of white roses sent to Catherine. He sat on the beach for most of the day with a book he had purchased but barely touched. He just watched the tide and the waves and pondered how it was possible for so many bikini's to exist in such a small space.

Looking at his watch, Grissom felt relief and panic all at once. He had decided to meet Horatio at the lab, mostly to see the place but also to get on with whatever conversation they were about to have. He didn't want to wait any more.

Stomach churning with memories of yesterday, Grissom rode the elevator up to the lab. He stepped cautiously out and looked around properly. It was all glass, moreso than even than the Vegas lab, and you could see almost everyone working from any particular point. Fate smiled on him and Calleigh turned to see him from the front desk.

"Doctor Grissom," she called out. Walking towards him, she held out her hand and smiled brightly. "Welcome to the Miami-Dade crime lab. I'm Calleigh Duquesne."

"Thank you, lovely to meet you Miss Duquesne." Grissom said, taking her hand. He noted she had a stronger handshake than he was used to receiving from most women.

"I was at a lecture of yours a couple of years ago in Pittsburgh."

Grissom frowned as he tried to remember. "The pig lecture?"

Calleigh laughed. "I don't think that was the official name you used then but pigs may have been involved, yes. Can I show you around?"

"Please," Grissom responded with relief. He wanted to see the lab and it would be nice to have a guide other than Horatio.

Their facilities were new but Grissom could tell they were still building on the technology present. The CSI's and lab techs had more overlap in job description than in Vegas too and Grissom was amazed at how much work the smaller staff managed to accomplish.

He thought it was merely coincidence that Horatio happened to be in the last room Calleigh brought him to. Bent over a table, Horatio was cutting a piece of fabric apart with scissors. He was in a starched, white labcoat that bore his name on the breast pocket, the collar of his black dress shirt peeking out from it. His hands were gloved and his face full of concentration, his red hair falling over his eyes.

Grissom, having had several crushes on professors in university, suddenly realized he must have developed something of a fetish for labcoats. Or maybe it was just that Horatio managed to look stunning in almost anything he wore, he couldn't tell. Whatever it was, his already upset stomach protested this new feeling and Grissom feared he was going to be sick.

"Doctor Grissom, I believe you know the head of the lab, Horatio Caine." Calleigh stated this so Horatio wouldn't be too shocked when he looked up and to keep up pretences.

Horatio stood, looking surprised anyway, his eyes focusing only on Grissom. The only thing he had been aware of in the past few hours had been the case they were working on. Putting all of his problems aside, he was looking for trace his team might miss because they didn't quite know where to look. But his body was very much speaking to him now and his heart was racing.

Grissom looked greatly improved from yesterday. His eyes were no longer red and the puffy bags beneath them were gone. His face and his stance were more relaxed. Horatio looked at his lips, a feature he personally loved, framed as they were by his beard. Unless he was mistaken, Grissom had also lost weight and the muscles of his shoulders had filled out. Horatio's eyes fell to the table and the evidence on it before he looked up at Calleigh.

"Horatio, I was just showing Doctor Grissom around the lab but I should get back to the case. Would you mind finishing up with him?" She stared pointedly at him.

"Um, no, I don't mind. Thank you Calleigh," he managed.

Grissom glanced down as Calleigh left then looked at Horatio. "Are you almost off shift?"

Horatio's stomach muscles clenched. He looked at the fabric on the table again with almost a pained expression.

Grissom read him like a book, knowing the feeling all to well. He nodded, indicating the evidence. "Finish it."

Horatio looked up at him. "I can...it can wait," he said unconvincingly.

Grissom cocked his eyebrow at Horatio and twitched up one corner of his lips, causing Horatio to feel even more unsteady. "What are you looking for?" Grissom grabbed a pair of gloves out of a box on the table and stepped to Horatio's side.

Horatio breathed deeply without being obvious, Grissom's smell causing an odd pain to palpate in his chest. "Uh, epithelials."

Grissom stretched out the piece of fabric, a backpack strap, and examined it closer. "Background?"

"Sean Bradshaw was seen arguing with Lisa Adoro a few hours before she was found dead a mile from his work place." Horatio said, his mind switching gears again. "He claims he didn't see her after that and witnesses state she didn't have this backpack on when they were arguing."

"The backpack was found at the crime scene?" Grissom asked, narrowing his eyes at the seam of the strap.

"Lisa's family confirms it belongs to her. Sean may have grabbed it in the struggle." Horatio finished.

Grissom stood up and exhaled, looking sideways at Horatio. "That's a long shot."

Horatio raised his own eyebrows, "that's all we've got."

Grissom held out his hand for the scissors and proceeded to finish the cut Horatio had started. He then held open the strap for Horatio to swab along the seam, inside and out, hoping it's edge had caught even a hint of a killer.

The men walked in silence to DNA where Horatio handed Valera the sample and asked her to please run it immediately. He then walked to his office, Grissom following.

He was astounded by the austerity of Horatio's office. A single file sat on the corner of his desk, sharing ample space with a phone and nothing else. The walls were, of course, glass and the furniture was all simple, dark vinyl printed to resemble leather. As Horatio unbuttoned his coat and went to remove it from his shoulders, Grissom found himself catching hold of it from where he stood behind him. Horatio gradually released his grip so Grissom could slide it down his arms and off. Grissom didn't meet Horatio's eyes as he hung it up, instead looking to see if anyone in the lab had noticed this seemingly out of place gesture.

Horatio stood with his eyes fixed on Grissom until the other man looked at him. "Will you let me make you dinner?" He finally said.

"Yes," Grissom responded before opening the door and leaving the office. He waited by the elevator and watched as Horatio donned his suit jacket and made a quick phone call from his office telephone. Fidgeting with the collar of his jacket, he left the office and walked to DNA. When he emerged, he fixed Grissom with something of a devilish smile.

"Got him," he rumbled.

Grissom smiled and turned towards the elevator, putting his hands in pants pockets.

Horatio resisted the urge to kiss Grissom as he leaned past him to shut the door of his condo. They looked away from each other, knowing it wasn't what the situation needed even if they both hungered for it in that moment.

Slipping off his shoes with his toes, Horatio moved quickly into the kitchen to unpack his dinner making supplies. Looking up to make sure Grissom was still untying his shoes, Horatio took the bag and the last item in it and stole up the stairs to his bedroom. He quickly shoved the condoms he had bought into the drawer of his night stand and returned downstairs. No conscious thought had gone through his mind when he'd picked them up, sometimes he did things without noticing. It was only while driving from the store that he thought the site of them might further upset Grissom and rightfully so. Horatio had no intention of forcing any physical contact between them tonight or this trip even, that was, if it was even an option at all after this. He thought sadly of their first nights together, how blissful they had been.

Grissom was looking out the bay windows when Horatio returned.

"Wine?" Horatio offered, looking at his back. Ever since Grissom walked through the door of the lab, Horatio had been unable to get a good read on him. He still wasn't sure what was going through Grissom's mind but, at the very least, he was much less upset than yesterday.

"Please." Grissom didn't turn, instead keeping his eyes on the distant ocean in an effort to calm his mind.

Horatio uncorked the bottle of red he had purchased and poured them each a glass. Walking up behind Grissom, he offered him the glass and deliberately brushed his arm against Grissom's. Grissom took the glass without look at him, however, and Horatio stepped back. He retreated to the kitchen and busied himself there, occasionally looking up at Grissom's back.

Grissom eventually turned and sipped his wine as he moved about Horatio's living room. Desk in the corner, beige suede couch and glass topped coffee table, light-coloured hardwood floor throughout. He ran his fingers along the top of the office chair that was pushed into the desk, noting the faded look of the upholstery that the couch did not share. There was no television clearly visible and Grissom guessed it must be hidden within an entertainment centre that stood centred in front of the couch, two large silver speakers standing guard on either side. Gently pulling to unlatch the magnetic catch of the doors, he opened the entertainment centre to find, to his surprise, a very small television. The bulk of the space was taken up by a large stereo and an even larger collection of CD's, meticulously organized by artist. Johnny Cash, Miles Davis, Pink Floyd, Queen, The Who and Led Zeppelin were all present.

Grissom smiled a bit, thinking about how he and Horatio were clearly both children of the 70's.

"Feel free to put something on, if you'd like," Horatio said when he looked up and caught Grissom's smile.

Grissom studied the cd's a bit further before closing the doors with a 'click', his smile fading. He walked to the island that Horatio stood at and sat on a stool parked next to it. There was no dinner table to be seen.

He placed his wine glass on the island after taking a sip and looked up at Horatio. "What were you thinking?" He said it calmly, in a way that made Horatio uneasy.

Inhaling deeply before letting out a sigh, Horatio leaned against the island with his hands atop it and looked at Grissom. "It's pretty clear...to both of us that I wasn't." He looked down before picking up his knife again and continuing to chop.

Grissom kept his level gaze fixed on Horatio even as he looked away. He felt oddly calm aside from a twinge in his stomach.

As he went from chopping to adding fresh noodles to a pot of boiling water to sautéing vegetables in a skillet, Horatio laid it all out for Grissom. Ron Saris and the fused alloy bullets and the feds. Grissom came to realize that Horatio had failed to tell him quite a bit, and reflected that the relative shortage of phone calls between them in the last week was more telling than he originally thought.

Horatio finished talking as he unscrewed a bottle of vodka and added a splash to his skillet, causing a tongue of flame to whoosh up from it. He flipped the fiery contents by flicking the pan a few times before setting it aside.

Horatio set their plates down along with some cutlery and seated himself across from Grissom, flapping out a napkin and laying it across his lap. Only then did he risk a glance at Grissom.

Grissom was staring intently back at him, frowning slightly. "You felt backed into a corner." He said after a moment.

Horatio nodded his head, "I didn't think of it that way at the time but that would be...accurate."

Grissom unfolded his own napkin and took a bite of pasta, still processing.

"That's, um...that's the story. It's not, uh, not why...I asked you here, I mean it's important but..." Horatio stumbled and frowned in frustration. "I'm not trying to excuse what I did," he finally managed, looking at Grissom. "And I'm...I'm sorry. I hate thinking about you...having to hear that and think..." He found he couldn't finish.

Grissom's eyes had lost much of their hardness and they looked at each other for a long while before returning to their food. After dinner they found themselves seated, not on Horatio's couch, but on the floor directly in front of it so it could be used as a backrest. Their wine glasses and a bottle stood on the coffee table.

"Catherine thinks I should give you another chance." Grissom said, his tongue loosened ever so slightly by the wine.

Horatio finished taking a sip before saying, "I knew I liked that woman." He was rewarded with a genuine smile from Grissom and returned it, seeing Grissom's beard ruffle in the creases around his mouth.

"Why?" He asked, curious as to how she had come to the conclusion.

Grissom's smile turned into a grin. "Apparently a guy who screws up once but can make you laugh and is good in bed is worth his weight in gold."

Horatio's eyebrows rose at that. "Uh," was all he managed before he started laughing softly, blushing ever so slightly.

When he finished laughing he turned towards Grissom, a thought occurring to him. "Can I tell you something...strange?"

Grissom shook his head, "I don't know if I can ever think of anything you do or say as strange ever again." They smiled at each other.

"Hmmm, Never mind." Horatio looked down at his wine glass as he swirled it.

"Tell me," Grissom prompted. "Tell me," he said again, prodding Horatio lightly in the ribs.

"I thought..."

Grissom forced his smile away when he saw that Horatio's blush had intensified.

"That night reminded me so much of my first time." A little timidly, he cast soft blue eyes in Grissom's direction.

"Huh." Grissom said and thought about it. He turned to face Horatio, leaning his head in his hand and supporting his arm on the couch. "What was your first like?"

Looking as though he had lost the memory years ago, Horatio thought about it. "Her name was...Cindy and she," he smiled here, "she lived in an apartment two floors down from us. I took...one hell of a beating trying to stick up for her little brother this one time. He was getting beat up by half a dozen older boys and...well, we both ended up in pretty bad shape but she heard about what I tried to do for her...little brother and...wanted to thank me."

Grissom chuckled, "Really?"

"Yep. So she, she was a year older than me, she takes me into her bedroom when her folks are out and...I'm not going to say she made a man out of me because that's...that is not how it felt."

They laughed together as this.

"Anyway, it was exciting and scary and...our first..." their eyes met, "just reminded me of that." He frowned and looked away, as if embarrassed at himself.

"Hm," a soft sound of contemplation came from Grissom's chest. "How old were you?" He asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Twelve."

"Twelve?"

"Twelve."

Grissom was looking at him with slight incredulity.

"How old were you?" Horatio felt forced to ask in the face of Grissom's disbelief.

"22."

Horatio then knew why the number had seemed unfathomable to Grissom. 22 seemed to illicit the same response in Horatio's mind.

"Why wait until you were 22?" Horatio asked as he topped up their glasses.

"It was when it was supposed to happen," he replied simply, taking the glass. "Adelle Sinclair. She was the first person I ever fell in love with, the first person I ever made love with and...the second person to ever break my heart."

Horatio nodded, "impressive statistics. What happened?"

Grissom sighed. "I asked her to marry me and she left for an internship in Guatemala the next semester."

They were silent for a while, contemplating the intimate details just exchanged.

"Who was the first person to ever break your heart?" Horatio asked, looking indirectly at Grissom.

Grissom's eyes clouded noticeably. "I don't want to talk about it." The tone of his voice dropped.

Horatio nodded after a moment and tentatively touched Grissom's jaw line with the tips of his fingers. Locked in one another's gaze, connected by the slightest touch, neither moved for a few minutes until Horatio stood.

Grissom looked after him, disappointed. Horatio opened the entertainment centre and bustled about in it until a woman's voice range out in bluesy tones. Closing the doors, Horatio moved his head to the music as he offered his hand to Grissom.

"Are you drunk?" Grissom asked, chuckling.

"I'm Irish," he responded seriously, "if I were drunk, you wouldn't have to ask that question. Give me your hand."

Grissom obliged as Aretha Franklin's 'Nightlife' range out through the house. He caught Horatio off guard when he pulled him forcefully close and began leading them. Both men were smiling, luxuriating in the contact so long denied to them. Their foreheads met as they swayed, the music forming a perfect balance between sensual and casual.

"Are you going to take Catherine's advice?" Horatio rumbled as the song finished, locking his eyes with Grissom's.

Grissom searched those blue pools. "Don't ever do anything like that again. I might not be able to forgive you a second time."

Horatio kept their shared gaze intact long enough to impart that he understood before they broke it and hugged tightly.

"You shouldn't drive back to the hotel tonight," Horatio said when they parted just enough to look at one another. "I can sleep in the spare room."

Grissom smiled sleepily. "Why don't you just _sleep_ in the bed with me?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Grissom said after a moment.

They made their way upstairs where Horatio's spacious bedroom and bathroom could be found. Fishing through his drawers, Horatio frowned as Grissom sat on the bed and removed his socks.

"I don't really have anything that'll fit you..." He rumbled, standing and flicking through items of clothing on hangers.

"You promise not to get frisky with me and I can just sleep in my boxers," Grissom said sensibly.

"Fair enough," Horatio said as he turned and began unbuttoning his shirt. As Grissom stood and removed his own, he caught sight of the dark purple bruise on Horatio's chest, just below his left pec. Grissom tossed his shirt on the bed and, looking concerned, placed his hands around the bruise to stop Horatio from moving as he looked at it.

"Have you had this looked at?" Grissom said, mouth slightly agape as he looked up at Horatio.

"Yeah, I had Alexx take a look. She thinks I probably fractured a rib but...it'll heal."

Grissom's face was serious, his gaze trained on the bruise, knowing the margin of error was slim. His stomach turned over and he walked away from Horatio, towards the other side of the bed.

Horatio followed him with his eyes as he finished undressing. He had been right, not that Grissom had necessarily lost weight but that he had put on some muscle. His shoulders had broadened from it, his stomach was leaner.

Slipping under the covers, Horatio moved until he was right beside Grissom as the other man laid down. He slipped a knee between Grissom's and wrapped an arm about his shoulders, their faces as close as they had been that first night. Grissom slipped a hand up, over Horatio's chest until his palm rested in a place where he could feel the steady beat of his heart.

"Where did you learn to dance?" Horatio whispered.

"What?" Grissom asked, thrown from his worried thoughts.

"Downstairs. You showed me who was boss." Horatio tried to coax a smile out of him.

Not quite succeeding, Grissom at least sighed and relaxed his face. "My mom would take me as her date to all the of the gallery and installation openings she attended when I was young. She loves to dance."

Horatio tried in vain to picture a young Gil Grissom, leading his mother about a room full of art snobs. It didn't suit the man.

"Do you?" He whispered in characteristically rough tones.

Grissom moved his hand from Horatio's chest to his face and stroked the laugh lines that framed his mouth. "With the right person, I do very much."

'Tell him' Horatio thought to himself. He breathed in the scent of Grissom deeply, his heart beating irregularly. He wanted to tell Grissom how he felt about him but saying those words had never been easy for him.

Settling, he held Grissom tighter than he ever had and rubbed their cheeks together, relishing the feel of Grissom's beard against his stubble. He promised himself he would tell Grissom soon.


End file.
